Memoirs (of a liar)
by Ms.GrinAndCry
Summary: Memoirs of a liar. "They only saw what they wanted to see. So I became the perfect reflection." Installment is finished! Story order: Memoirs (of a liar) Memoirs (of an artist) Memoirs (of a flower), and last but not least Memoirs (of a man). I hope you enjoy!
1. Prologue

Prologue

Opened my eyes.

Opened my eyes and closed them again.

Too ugly.


	2. Chapter One

Chapter One

I remember.

Somehow.

At the back of my mind, there is a darkness that threatens to pull me inside.

Glittering fangs, red eyes. Breath of a demon.

Don't know what it is.

(Lies. I've always known what it was.)

If I close my eyes and think, I can remember.

Texture of human fat through layers of fire and destruction. Screams of anguish and the cries of the weak.

It was dark.

And cold.

Amongst the darkness, I could feel the fear of my blood. Clammy fingers caressed my forehead. Bloody prints marked my flesh.

I could hear voices.

Two stars.

Bright and beautiful and twinkling like fireflies amongst the blackness.

But even the stars dulled and decayed.

After the death of the stars, I could feel the eyes of a demon.

Many demons.

Thousands of them.

Their voices trembled with hatred and ice. Sharp. Sharper than any sword.

Their bony fingers reached for my body and I wailed.

Something wet and withered reached out with shaking hands and took me.

I was cradled against something solid and soft. Heard the thumping of life inside a box. Felt the horror and dismay and slight disgust emanating from its core.

Even the God of Shinobi did not want me.

Can't blame him.

I spent decades not wanting myself either.

"And my dream… is to be the next Hokage!"


	3. Chapter Two

Chapter Two

When you grow up in the streets, you learn how to get around and how to avoid certain people.

Man with the rimmed glasses and dreads? Do not cross him.

(Only once. Walked past. My ribs still throb upon setting eyes on him).

Old woman with the kind smile and shiny eyes? Do not cross her.

(I was a fool. I've got the scars to prove it).

The only person I can trust is the old man. The Hokage really is a saint. Naïve, but a saint nonetheless.

I can't even trust myself.

At the Academy, I learnt not to cross most of the teachers.

Iruka was kind (even if it was rather forced, the way he smiled and tried to be gentle), but he wasn't my friend; not really.

Sakura had pretty eyes. But they were cold. It was nice to pretend to like someone once in a while, anyway.

Sasuke may have been a prodigy, but he wasn't as smart as everyone told him he was.

Even the Nara was a fool.

They only saw what they wanted to see.

So I became the perfect reflection.

I laughed and I boasted and I whined and I pranked and I _failed._

I did everything they liked to believe I did.

I'm old, now.

I made thousands of acquaintances and so-called friends, but none of them came as close to the truth as Haku did.

Haku.

Snow, warm, beautiful, pure Haku.

"Can you understand? Not having a dream... not being needed by anyone... The pain of _merely being alive"._


	4. Chapter Three

Chapter Three

Haku was the closest thing that ever came to raw and unadulterated perfection.

Beautiful beyond compare and as honest as an open book.

He saw right through my carefully crafted façade in a matter of seconds.

I was left exposed.

Scared.

I remember, how my breath quickened and my jaw clenched.

His eyes never abandoned mine.

They never hated.

They never judged.

His eyes, dark and comforting, calling me to him like a siren calls to a sailor.

His hand upon my hand.

I knew fear. Pain. Defeat.

But never before had I known honesty like I did with Haku.

We talked for a few minutes.

(Too short, too short, too short. Not enough time. NEVER enough time).

All too soon, he was gone.

Spots of blood upon white snow.

Horror.

Despair.

It couldn't be.

Hand through chest, pierced heart, fading drum, waning life, eyes dulling, breaths slowing…

… All too soon.

I've never quite forgiven Kakashi.

And I don't think I can.

Don't think I want to.

That man… Kakashi. My teacher.

I have a bag of reasons as to why I can never fully forgive him, and amongst them is Haku's demise.

It wasn't his fault.

Haku sacrificed himself.

But it doesn't matter.

I don't care.

Haku's blood is on his hands.

* * *

"You talk too much... and your words... they cut deep-deeper than any blade..."


	5. Chapter Four

Chapter Four

The minutes passed.

I remember.

On our way back, we stopped for the night and camped out in the woods.

"Good ninja training," Kakashi had drawled, "Helps to enhance your senses."

The hours dragged on and I could not sleep.

Nightmares haunted me like a drug haunts the addicted.

Turned on my sides and stared through the darkness.

Heard a rustle besides me and stared at two orbs darker than the night.

"Naruto?"

"… what?"

Felt the pause and the stillness of breath. Felt the hesitancy in a question akin to a prayer.

"Are you allright?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

The answer, it was immediate. Sharp, like a bullet, and precise.

Again, the boy with revenge in his eyes could not help but frown.

"You know," he began, murmurs and echoes of pain etched in a voice too young to have known the pain of loss and dismay, "You know… sometimes when I can't sleep, I like to go outside and stare at the darkness. Do you like the darkness, Naruto?"

I stilled.

A nod.

Sasuke continued, "When I stare at the darkness, it stares back at me. We have the same eyes, you and I. We've dwelled in the darkness too much. We've become one with the darkness, so much so that we've forgotten the shine of the stars."

Slow breaths and a small crack in the voice of the stranger.

"Naruto, I… I'm sorr-,"

"Enough."

A slight twitch of surprise.

"Sasuke, I do not look for remorse. Go to sleep. The darkness will be there even if the night is not. Good night."

That was the start.

Our friendship was an odd one.

We would insult each other, put each other down, take out our frustrations on each other, beat each other up. But we would never stop calling each other friends.

Never called him friend, not to his face. And vice versa.

We were so alike and yet so different.

* * *

"My name is Uchiha Sasuke. There are plenty of things I dislike, considering there is almost nothing I do like. It is pointless to talk about "dreams"... That's just a word... But one thing I have is determination. I am going to restore my clan and there is a certain someone who I have sworn...to kill."


	6. Chapter Five

Chapter Five

In a way, we were brothers.

I had his back and he had mine.

But in the end, blood was thicker than water.

His desire for revenge was insatiable. He lusted for the blood of his brother over his own happiness.

Eyes so dark I often times found myself lost in them. Skin so pale it seemed almost unhealthy. He was my brother, my rival, and towards the end, my nemesis.

We completed each other.

We came to develop an unhealthy relationship. I would try to drag his ass back to the village (back to me, actually. The village sickened me. One of the reasons as to why I burned it to the ground), and he would try to plant a chidori through my heart. It was an endless cycle of hide-and-seek. It was an endless game of pretending everything could be restored.

Sometimes, in the midst of a battle, when bodies scattered the fields and the bloody rain fell upon our heads, when we were the only ones left to fight, I could see it in his eyes, the desperation for companionship and happiness. But then a shadow would fall upon his visage, and his eyes would widen in madness.

"I didn't kill my brother," he would say, "You did. My brother was a good man. The best man. The only man. This putrid village, with its cobweb-ridden skeletons and muddied corpses, which you adore and wish to protect, is nothing but a sorry excuse at justice."

And then we'd try to kill each other.

Of course, it was just a game. I'd chop off an arm or two, and he'd pierce my torso when he could have easily sliced through my chest.

The game went on for years.

And then, in an ill twist of fate, our carefully choreographed dance came to a halt due to an unforeseen casualty; clumsiness.

My feet slipped.

I plunged right through his chest.

It was all I could do to look him in the eyes in a panicked frenzy and not go insane.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry…"

The words carried on by the gust of the wind.

Word quickly traveled.

Uchiha Sasuke, finally dead. Uzumaki Naruto, village hero.

It was the perfect end to our tragic comedy.

While my hands gripped his heart in a desperate attempt to keep him here (to keep him alive, to keep him with me), ninja in every village cheered the defeat of one of the Uchihas. While I grasped his hands and cradled his lithe body towards mine, while my eyes blurred and my mouth would not stop moving, while his eyes watered and his voice rasped, while the only person I came to call a friend died by my hand, the ninja of various villages rejoiced in the death of my brother.

"Naruto, I-," (No, please don't. Sasuke. That's sick. Please don't give me back the memories of that night), "I'm… I'm sorry."

* * *

"It's too late for me, Naruto... It's just too late."


	7. Chapter Six: The End

Chapter Six

Life no longer possessed meaning.

I was given high status, celebrity status.

Was enrolled in Anbu. Took S-rank missions. Kakashi was not pleased. Tsunade was not pleased. Iruka was not pleased. Sakura was not pleased.

I was not pleased.

But it hardly mattered.

I became a tool. I worked for perfection. Made each kill more efficient than the last one. Molded myself into a perfect puppet, a puppet worthy of comparison to Sasori of the Sand. I killed without mercy. I became a machine.

But even my ruthlessness couldn't complete me.

Danzo took notice.

I went missing.

Or so the village was told.

Even Tsunade did not know.

I resided in underground chambers, chained to a wall and locked away in a cell, left to rot with the rest of the vermin.

Felt cleansed, then. Felt done, then.

But fate would not have it.

Kakashi found me.

Tracked down my scent and the feel of my chakra, corrosive and poisonous as it was.

Was freed. Danzo, persecuted and given the death penalty.

Was given freedom. Was given everything.

But I could not have Sasuke back. I could not have Haku back.

The reproachful glares of the villagers turned into passionate cries of admiration and hero-worship.

Felt sick.

Felt mad.

Felt the fury twist inside my gut and felt the darkness rear its ugly head.

Many times, I'd held back.

But no more.

Opened my eyes.

Opened my eyes and closed them again.

Too ugly.

The village was no more.

Only ashes and debris. Only shadows and memories.

Good.

Good.

* * *

"Sasuke, I always knew you were alone. In the beginning, I was glad, because I knew you were like me - I wanted to talk to you! And you answered my every question. We're both popular and all, so I decided that you would become my best friend. I didn't want to lose because I was called a loser all the time. Even when we became Team 7, I still thought this way. I always tried to lie but... but the truth is... I always wanted to be like you. I aspired to be like you. Because of that... I was glad that you wanted to fight me."


End file.
